


Wolves And Lycans

by DagReaper (TyJaxReaper)



Category: Game of Thrones (TV), Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alive Hale Family, Bitch Catelyn, Derek Has Issues, Hurt Derek, Pre-A Game of Thrones, Violence, Werewolf - freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-03
Updated: 2016-05-03
Packaged: 2018-06-06 05:27:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,523
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6740218
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TyJaxReaper/pseuds/DagReaper
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Father, you keep lecturing me on taking responsibility. Would you consider letting me take responsibility with this 'Lycan'?" the way he said Lycan sounded very odd in his tongue. The way he spoke the word, his accent. It was odd, but incredibly alluring, smooth, soft, but firm in its own way.</p><p>"Responsibility for what? His actions? His... 'growling'? He's going to the cells until any further decisions!" the Lord was even firmer with his words, clearly showing his rank in these walls.</p><p>"Father, please. Allow me a chance," the young Lord directed a serious expression at his father, a very mature one and Derek was actually afraid that he would agree to be put in his care. He was afraid of being treated like a dog.</p><p>"Alright,"</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wolves And Lycans

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know, I was in a Derek/Robb mood again and this just came out of nowhere. More to add to my Game Of Crossovers series I guess :)

"Here’s the beast,” he heard one of the men say as he was tossed to the dirt, stone and rubble cutting into the bare skin of his torso and forearms as he tried shielding himself. “I saw it with my own eyes, my Lord! He changed, like some demon,” he nearly rolled his eyes at that, but instead lifted himself until he was on his knees and elbows, deciding to stay low until spoken to. He had respect, was raised to have it for the Lords and the Lords children. And it was a Stark, the one that earned the respect. He was a Human wolf, a man of the Dire. It was his sigil and he had the utmost respect of the Hale Lycans, even though the man had no idea of their existence.

“A monster,” the other hissed at him and Derek actually did roll his eyes that time.

 

 

“You have proof of this?” Lord Stark asked, sounding pretty disbelieving of what they were saying. He would soon believe... they did have proof, and they’ve tested it, multiple, painstaking times.

“We do,”he winced when one of the men dragged him up by his hair, the stones and gravel cutting into him and then falling from his skin. He scowled ahead of him, seeing the ENTIRE family standing in front of him. Lord Stark, his wife, his sons and daughters. He was about to protest to doing this in front of them when he felt the cold steel of a blade run through his right shoulder, pulling a strangle, animalistic growl from his chest, the attack on his body triggering his transformation unwillingly and he could feel his shift ripping through him, coming to light in front of the Stark family. His elongated ears, his fangs, claws, facial features and eyes. Though he kept his eyes closed as the men backed up and left him kneeling there.

The blade was still in his shoulder when he stopped screaming, the cold metal stopping him from healing. He whimpered, rather deeply with an echo from the combination of his wolf and him feeling the pain. He looked down between his knees, not wanting to open his eyes and show them the shameful colour. They may not know what it meant, but he loathed himself for it.

He growled when the blade was gripped and pulled from his shoulder, one of the men, leaning back so that the family could see the instant healing, the hole closed up, knitting together and seeming as if he hadn’t just had a sword thrusted through him. He’d heard the gasp and the heartbeats accelerate further, the humans reaction automatically to what was happening.

“See? He’s a monster! A demon!” the one standing furthest away from him squeaked, afraid to come near. Derek just kept looking down, staring at the snowy dirt between his knees with closed eyes. He swallowed deeply, wanting to leave, wanting run and hide from these humans'. Fear was never a trait of his, it still wasn't, and he wouldn't call this fear either. It was more unnerved than anything. In all of the years his kind had been hiding from humans', he'd been the one to screw up and get caught. They'd eventually find out that his race were hidden in plain sight, walking among them like normal beings'.

"What are you," the Lord ordered the answer and he resisted the urge to shrink back from him, wanting to hide away. He should answer, seeing as he was Lord Stark, but giving away what he was, who he was. It would be giving away his kind, his race, his pack, his family. "What are you, boy!" he commanded strongly, Derek actually flinching that time.

"Lycan," he muttered, quietly growling to himself after he answered, regretting everything he'd done that day. "I'm a Lycan," he whimpered, trying to curl in on himself and make himself seem that much smaller.

"Lycan? I've never heard of such a thing," the woman, Lord Starks' wife spoke with hatred clear in each word. It was very easy to see that she was not very fond of him.

"What is a Lycan?" a young boy, the brunette that had been on the edge with the slightly older daughter asked, seeming very interested abut the matter. Derek was calm enough to control his shift at that point, taking a few seconds of silence to reform back to his human state, his ears shrinking back, his fangs blunting and his eyes changed as well. He was able to look up at them, not daring to look them in the eyes though.

"A being between man and wolf," he muttered guiltily, practically giving away everything now. "We are able to shift whenever we want, but... on the night of a fullmoon, we're active, buzzing with intense, heated energy," the last few words were filled with emphasis, showing a little of how he felt of those nights. They were great, fun. He enjoyed the nights of fullmoons.

 

"A fullmoon passed overhead not a day ago," Lord Stark pointed out obviously for those who hadn't realized.

"Which is when your men caught me. I hadn't realized how close to Winterfell I had been until they were chasing me," his nerves were... calming as he spoke with the man, the tension seeming to die down between them as they learned from one another. Though the womans' atmosphere read hatred and anger towards him. He'd steer very clear of her in the future... if he had one.

"A foolish mistake on your part," the Lords wife muttered harshly, directing her irritation and/or anger of him on him. Derek didn't even look at her, he kept his eyes about mid-way on them, keeping his gaze about waist and down.

"Why did you wander so close?" the Lord asked calmly, much calmer than his Lady Caitlin.

"It wasn't my intention," he started slowly and honestly. He really hadn't realized where he was until the men that caught him chased after him with swords and yelling. His instinct brought him back to reality. "We can fade so far into an adrenaline rush and excitement that we forget where we are," again, he was being honest.

"From what you say, there are more of you," the woman spoke up again, completely bypassing everything and finding something that could potentially be used against him. Maybe she was thinking of flushing the rest of his kind out, wanting to find his family and force them into slavery or something. She seemed like the dark and manipulative type.

Derek didn't say anything to that, and instead just stared at the ground in front of the Lords boots, eyeing the dirt and snow like it was more interesting than his current situation.

"Are there more of you," she ordered an answer, her voice firm, domineering and authoritive, but he stayed quiet, his brow furrowing slightly in rebellion and disobedience. "Answer me!" she commended and it only drew a faint, a very silent, deep growl from his chest. It was barely audible, but he knew that the Stark family heard it just by the stiffened posture and angry huff leaving the woman.

Clearly Ned Stark was pissed at this action and he reached forward, punching him full force in the face and sending him onto his back, his jawline aching with a hot burn from the blow. He panted and little, slowly recovering from the hit while trying to blink off the sudden blur in his eyes.

"Enough, take him to the cells!" the man ordered with a kingly attitude, until he heard one of his sons, the oldest he assumed, spoke up.

"Wait! Father," Derek glanced over at them for a brief second before shifting until he was back on his knees, a sliver of blood still in his mouth, even after he started healing. "A word in private," he requested. The Lycan caught the faint nod, even if he hadn't seen it, but he accepted and they stepped away, He could easily hear them, his heightened senses catching their words.

" _Father, you keep lecturing me on taking responsibility. Would you consider letting me take responsibility with this 'Lycan'?_ " the way he said Lycan sounded very odd in his tongue. The way he spoke the word, his accent. It was odd, but incredibly alluring, smooth, soft, but firm in its own way.

" _Responsibility for what? His actions? His... 'growling'? He's going to the cells until any further decisions!_ " the Lord was even firmer with his words, clearly showing his rank in these walls.

" _Father, please. Allow me a chance,_ " the young Lord directed a serious expression at his father, a very mature one and Derek was actually afraid that he would agree to be put in his care. He was afraid of being treated like a dog.

 

" _Alright_ ," he huffed in a hushed breath, letting his arm drop in resignation and then, in less than a second, he was firm and authoritive again, his index finger aimed at the young man. " _But if he escapes or kills, then it's on your head_ ,"

.... dammit.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you liked this. Hopefully I can get working on more for Derek/Robb, maybe more for Jon/Stiles too.


End file.
